Forevermore

by Cristiane Serruya

  “You look so beautiful!” said Hildegard, closing the top button of Ava’s dress.

  She crossed the room to give herself a final glance over. She was immediately arrested by her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Clean-lined, the delicately embroidered gown yoked to emphasize her handspan waist and gave her height the right amount of elegance.

  She looked beautiful. And she felt beautiful, too. She ran her hands down her sides to her hips, over the delicate embroidery that covered the palest-blue bra and bikini panties she wore beneath the dress. For luck—because if one was going to wed, it was important to cover all bases. As for something old, her mother’s favorite diamond earrings sparkled in her ears.

  “Bride of the year,” Ava murmured, then she laughed. She felt pretty, curvy, beautiful. And surrounded by love.

  “I wish your mother could see you,” whispered Hildegard, coming to stand beside her. Her grandmother sniffed and a trembling smiled opened on her face. “But then, she might be watching now and she will give me a piece of her mind when I meet her for being sentimental.”

  Ava turned and hugged her grandmother. “Thank you, Mormor. For everything.”

  “Ava, Hilde?” Eirik’s voice came from the doorway.

  “Come on in, Morfar.”

  Hildegard and Ava straightened and smiled at each other.

  “I have instructions to escort you to the living room when you’re ready.”

  Hildegard flipped her waist-high veil—much against Olivia’s insistence for a very long one—over her shoulder, stood on her tip-toes and kissed Ava’s cheek. “I wish you all the happiness in the world, skatten mim.”

  When Hildegard left the room, Ava turned to Eirik and placed her hand in the crook of his arm. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  The harp and violins signaled for Olivia it was time and she tugged at her father’s hand.

  Wearing a stylish Little Red Riding Hood velvet cape over her white dress with a white velvet bodice and an enormous white tutu skirt, which Ava helped her choose, she began walking the makeshift aisle, proud she was the one taking her father.

  Aleksander could feel her little hand trembling with excitement and the huge grin on her face didn’t leave an ounce of doubt to the guests that she was happy that she had succeeded in getting him to marry Ava.

  Because even with the possibility of a cure already taking root in her mind, she did think Ava was the perfect woman to take care of her father.

  And Ava would be even more perfect if she got to be her stepmother forever.

  She stopped near the tree where the registrar, who would officiate the wedding, stood at attention, and looked up to her father, winked, and then moved to stand by Lydia’s side.

  “Doesn’t she look beautiful?” she asked in a whisper to her grandmother Lydia, as Ava appeared on Eirik’s arm, walking sedately down the flight of stairs, then along the hallway.

  Lydia nodded, blinking back the tears which were swimming in her eyes, trying to make them go away, but they spilled over her cheeks.

  “Don’t cry, Nana. Mom would not be sad seeing Daddy happy.” Suddenly Olivia grasped Lydia’s hand in hers and her grin faltered, a flicker of doubt appearing in her big blue eyes. “She wouldn’t, would she?”

  Lydia mustered a smile to her trembling lips and whispered to her granddaughter, “Rachel would very much approve of your choice, Liv. And I’m not sad. I am just an old emotional granny who cries at weddings.”

  The answer seemed to appease Olivia, who began to whisper anew about the wedding settings, pointing to Lydia what were the details she had thought of.

  Even though her heart was surely missing a part, Lydia’s smile grew. Because getting to see Ava replacing Rachel made Lydia’s heart small in her chest, at the same time there was a comforting warmth.

  Olivia, that precious living piece of her daughter, was beside herself with joy, and Aleksander, her son-in-law, was a good man who deserved all the happiness in this world. Her own daughter had also been on the receiving end of his love and devotion. She had no doubt that Rachel would approve of his love continuing to flow to others.

  And, Ava, well, a woman so devoted to the happiness of another woman’s child was a rare thing indeed.

  Soft music filled the room, the tree sparkled, a fire crackled in the hearth, the scent of pine mingled with the delectable aroma of the turkey roasting in the oven; the setting couldn’t have been more cozy.

  Ava did her best to calm the excitement heating her blood, the spark that had started low in her belly, buzzing her so hard it was almost unbearable.

  Aleksander squeezed her arm gently when Eirik put it on his, almost as if he could sense her nerves and reassured her that he was there.

  “We’re all together here to celebrate this union between Ava Larsen and Aleksander Maximilian…”

  “Look at her, not at me,” Olivia whispered, motioning to them to look at each other, and dutifully, Ava and Aleksander obeyed.

  The registrar official motioned to them, “And now for the reading of the vows.”

  They faced each other and smiled as both produced small square of papers—Ava from her left long sleeve and Aleksander from his inner suit pocket.

  Unfolding the paper, Ava scanned once more the vows she and Olivia had written together. “I promise I will be there for you in good times and in bad times and to forever be kind of friends with you. I also promise to turn on the heating when you are cold, even if I am burning hot.”

  She stopped to press her lips together, keeping the laughter inside herself, her gaze connecting with Aleksander’s. Humor twinkled in his eyes.

  In unison, they both glanced at a beaming and proud Olivia, who signaled with a thumb’s-up. It was all they could do to not burst out laughing, though the guests were already chuckling and chortling around them.

  Ava took a deep breath, faced Aleksander again, and staring into his grayish-green eyes, she continuing, borrowing words from Mark Twain, “A marriage makes of two fractional lives a whole; It gives two purposeless lives a work; And doubles the strength of each to perform it. It gives to two questioning natures a reason for living; And something to live for. It will give new gladness to the sunshine; A new fragrance to the flowers; a new beauty to the earth; And a new mystery to life.’” And, squeezing his hand, almost as if she didn’t want anyone else but him to hear, she finished in a soft voice, “As I vow always to be true, I promise myself to you.”

  He had to clear his throat before he began, “Ava, I promise I’ll never get mad or yell at you. I’ll be nice and helpful; I promise to take out the garbage, even in the pouring rain or freezing cold. I also vow never to steal your covers. Well, unless you are hogging them.”

  Aleksander looked up from his page to see her smiling at him. Humor replaced by sincerity, he recited a small passage from Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables, “The future belongs to hearts even more than it does to minds. Love, that is the only thing that can occupy and fill eternity. In the infinite, the inexhaustible is requisite. Love participates of the soul itself. It is of the same nature. Like it, it is the divine spark; like it, it is incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable.’” The tremor in his voice at the start of reciting his vows had faded and now his baritone resounded in the room, strong, solid, and steadfast. As she had done, he finished with a promise from his heart, “And I vow I’ll never let you go.”

  It was the voice of a man who had at last determined what he wanted, his course in life.

  The voice of a man in love.

  Chapter 38

  They had a scrumptious lunch, with champagne toasts, and Benedict speaking for Aleksander, and Eirik for Ava.

  They fed themselves a piece of the towering kransekake, the typical Norwegian cake for weddings, Christmas, and other important celebrations.

  They chatted with guests and took tons of photos, all a part of Olivia’s grand idea of a wedding.

  The time for their first dance as a marri
ed couple came, and Aleksander’s lips curled at the song Olivia had chosen: Tale as Old as Time.

  They danced like that, nice and slow—but not as close as he would have liked—until the song ended.

  And then Olivia declared, “Okay, now it’s time to go to sleep. All weddings end with the couple going to sleep, because marriage is exhausting.”

  Ava laughed at Olivia’s innocence. Getting wedded was indeed exhausting, but sleep was the last thing newlyweds did when they went to their room.

  “You’re absolutely right, Pumpkin,” Aleksander said. “Why don’t you help your grandmother see the rest of the guests out while I take my beautiful wife to bed?”

  Ava’s stomach fluttered wildly at his innocently put request, but Olivia smiled.

  Olivia kissed and gave Ava a tight hug, repeating it with her father and whispering something in his ear which made him nod fiercely.

  “Good night! I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Meredith came to stand beside Olivia, eyeing them with a somewhat disapproving look on her face. It was not because she disapproved of Ava marrying her son anymore, but because they had told her they were going to Germany on a honeymoon and taking Olivia with them.

  Ignoring his mother, he shifted his arm across Ava’s back and in a fluid motion, he passed his other arm under her knees and swept Ava up into his arms to Olivia’s delightful applauses and catcalls from his friends.

  Ava gasped, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. She opened her mouth to tell him to put her down, but all that came out was, “You smell like a dark pine forest, raw and sensual.”

  He laughed as he carried her up the stairs and was still smiling when he carried her into his bedroom and kicked the door shut with his heel.

  “Finally, just the two of us,” he whispered in her mouth after putting her on the floor. “My wife.”

  Ava had thought such a title wouldn’t mean anything to her, but somehow, hearing him say it, her head seemed light, very light as she stared in the eyes of the man she loved. “My husband.”

  His mouth took hers in a hot kiss while his hands sought and found the button and the zipper keeping her dress on. He pushed it away so he could find skin, and when he did, it took her even higher.

  He breathed on the sugary scent of her, more intoxicating than any champagne. The silken touch of her skin under his fingertips, the heavy weight of her breasts in his palms, the sounds of pleasure in their throats, the slide of lips and tongues slammed into him like a tsunami.

  And for now, for this one moment, he wanted to just be swept away. She slid her hands into his hair, and her own need spiked when he lifted her off her feet, off her dress.

  As she slid her off her underwear she understood, by the hurry in which he shed his clothes, he was in no mood to dally. And that was in perfect harmony with her own needs.

  When he pulled her to him and on the bed, he felt as hot as the sun, and as loaded with primal energy, his every muscle heavy with it, sinews taut and tight. Pressing beneath her, his hands slid down her hips, fingers sinking firm and strong into the softness of her buttocks, and in one single thrust they were one.

  “Alek,” she gasped as she felt the thick, steely strength of him invade her, stretch her.

  He drew back from their kiss and, straightening his arms, held himself over her. So he could see her—see her in all her glory, totally, wantonly his. Her breasts rocked with his thrusts, the sheen ivory skin delicately flushed, rose-red nipples engorged, erect. Her hands, clutching spasmodically, fingers sinking into his biceps as he plunged deeper and pushed her higher.

  Again, he lifted her, tilted her. This time when he rocked, he pressed into her. He pushed deeper still, then slowly withdrew, then returned, more strongly, more forcefully.

  Filling her.

  And relentlessly, inch by steady inch, claiming her.

  She shuddered and held him tight to give herself to him.

  Ava opened her body and let him come in, opened her heart and let him take possession of what was already his.

  She took him—took him in, scalding him with her wet heat, with the molten furnace of her desire.

  He set a fast rhythm—time for slow would come. Later. Soon. Beneath him, she rose to each thrust, her breasts caressing his chest, her thighs cradling his hips, her long legs tangling with his.

  Then, lowering his long body to hers, he kissed her deeply, until her head spun and her senses whirled and her whole body trembled.

  Ava was caught in the throes of climax, her head thrashed as she clutched blindly at his shoulders. “Aleksander.”

  “Easy,” he told her, moving his warm lips against her neck, hovering at the edge of the cliff where passion reigned and pleasure triumphed. “Nice and easy.”

  When her moans echoed around him, through him, he flung himself into the realm of satiation.

  “Ava.” When he called to her, her body tightened deliciously around his. So he did it again. “Ava.”

  He gritted his teeth. The pleasure was keen, slicing through him like a knife. “Ava.”

  Words were beyond him after that. He squeezed her bottom in both hands and took her hard and fast, relentless in his race to the peak. And then he came.

  He came hard, spending into her, his hips jerking with each wrenching spasm. Sensations more intense than he’d ever experienced consumed him in a conflagration of fiery release.

  She watched a panorama of emotions cross his face as he gave himself up to her in a series of short, frenzied thrusts and then flung his head back with a deep grunt.

  The feeling passed, like a fever, and when, at the last, he collapsed in her arms, he was beyond words, thought, or deed. The only thing he knew was that she was there to receive him.

  She remained so softly pliant beneath him, so welcoming and he was sated so deeply he could not move immediately. He buried his face in the curve of her neck. Kissed her there. He’d never before felt anything quite this intense.

  “Don’t mind me. I’ll be fine in a year or two,” he finally whispered in a hoarse voice. “I think it is entirely possible that I have gone to heaven.”

  Laughing low, she said, “Your body reacted in a way that is denied to angels.”

  He shrugged and rolled to the other side of the bed, bringing her with him.

  “I may have neglected to mention this before,” he said, his a voice like thunder rumbling inside her, “but I’m in love with you, and I have a feeling it’s a lifetime thing.”

  Ava linked her hands behind his neck, reveling in her closeness to Aleksander and the priceless words he’d just said. “Actually, you did neglect to mention that, Mr. Maximilian.”

  He tasted her lips, sending a new thrill careening through her system. “I apologize abjectly.”

  “You are forgiven,” Ava whispered, her mouth against his.

  Even though you’re guilty of the same oversight? She was no docile woman, only receiving. She gave all, her body and soul. Perhaps a little of her heart. He would have to content himself with that.

  He’d gone from famine to feast—no middle ground.

  He’d gone from having no one to call his own to having a fantasy here in his arms.

  I could win her after tonight. After drawing her into his arms, he buried his face in her hair. Correction, I will win her.

  Chapter 39

  Germany, Heidelberg

  Tuesday, December 1, 2015

  10:00 a.m.

  * * *

  Planned and built around Schloss Heidelberg in the thirteenth century, Heidelberg still retained the picturesque ensemble and the romanticism which inspired the poets and artists. Surrounded by snowcapped hills at this time of the year and cut by the river Neckar, it was a cosmopolitan, friendly, people-oriented, and vibrant university city, particularly attractive to students, academics and researchers, and literary people, since it was the UNESCO City of Literature.

  “Look!” Olivia pointed at the frozen river below the bridge they were
crossing and then at the old, huge castle atop a hill. “Ooooh, look, Ava! A real castle. Can we go there?”

  “As soon as Dr. Goldenstein consults you, we will go there, Pumpkin.”

  “Okay. And I want to buy a gift for Sydney,” said Olivia, and then turned to Whitney Mobutu, who had substituted Sydney four days ago and was accompanying them now. “And also for you, Whitney. And for your kids, too.”

  “You are so sweet, Liv.” Whitney placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. “I am sure they will love it.”

  When Aleksander stepped out of the black Rolls-Royce which had brought them from the airport in front of Der Europäischer Hof hotel the chill in the air was already balanced by the sunshine.

  Attractive men and women walked around hand in hand and families strolled in perfect happiness, Aleksander could hear the wind in the leaves, and the screams of the kids on some playground in the distance, kids just being kids, playing with other kids.

  Little kids like Olivia figuring out how to be alive, how to navigate a world that was not built for them, by navigating a playground that was.

  11:30 a.m.

  * * *

  Aleksander clenched his fists in excitement. Ava reached for his hand and squeezed. Because she knew his excitement was going to be short-lived.

  The tumor stared malevolently at her from all angles via the monitors behind Dr. Goldenstein as the doctor pointed and explained, “I’ve gone over the dangers with your wife. If I go posteriorly, I may violate the hypothalamus, and that means game over. If I take a lateral approach, I will hit the carotid arteries and again, game over. And since the tumor has invaded the optic chiasm, there is only one way I can go, and that is through the inferior and it…” Dr. Goldenstein cleared his throat. “It will wreck her optical nerve.”

  Ava heaved a sigh as the doctor confirmed to Aleksander what she’d researched and what she’d seen on the recent scans that had just been done.